Page 14 of The Fiance Dilemma

NICK: The nineties was not that long ago, Sammy. Stop talking about millennials like we’re ancient. But yes, just like Julia Roberts in that movie. And I swear I’m not answering who Julia Roberts is. I’m also not making this up. We’ve hunted for pictures of her and found one, in some local newspaper, and as expected, she’s a stunner. She also happens to be this wholesome, small-town girl with big blue eyes and cowboy boots. I didn’t even know they wore those in North Carolina. But anyway. Four times!

SAM: (chokes out a laugh) Whoa. (slow clap) Listen, I applaud. We love a bad bish who can and will say no. Even if it’s giving trauma and I’m low-key a little worried about her.

NICK: (chuckles) I mean, I can’t blame her, really. I would have big, fat daddy issues if my father had ditched me in some town in the middle of nowhere to live it up in a mansion in Miami. Do you have any idea how nice my tan would be if I lived in Miami? (loud exhale) Now seriously, you know I occasionally have a heart. So drama aside, it’s no wonder the girl is messed-up. She apparently lost her mother young—we didn’t find out when exactly—and Rich Daddy did nothing. Small-Town Heiress didn’t even know she was an Underwood until very recently.

SAM: (groans) Now that’s truly disgusting behavior. I feel sick, really. That’s why I never get past a situationship. It’s so hard to… trust. The lengths some men will go to hide who they are. And this guy is the proof. (ponders with a hum) I wonder if we could do something in solidarity. You know I’m a girls’ girl.

NICK: I don’t know about that. We are just two people on a podcast. BUT we could ask our audience whether they want to hear more. So, Reali-tiers? Let us know in the comments if you’d like that. It’s been a while since we did aReali-teaseries and I feel this one’s layered.

The answer to Nick’s question had been a resounding yes. I’d seen the comments myself. I also wished I hadn’t just based it on the amount of unfiltered thoughts, opinions, and judgments some people felt the need to put into the universe. But regardless, I didn’t need to be Bobbi Shark to know this wasn’t good. I could already tell that it probably didn’t register in the spectrum ofacceptableormanageable.

“Josie?” Matthew tried. “You good, sweetheart?”

I swallowed, refocusing on him. “Ah… sure,” I said. “I was just thinking. Thoughts. Of various types. Did Grandpa’s bottoms not fit? Is that why you’re not wearing them?”

Matthew tilted his head. “I’d rather talk about what’s bothering you.” His gaze dipped in the direction of my hands. “What is it?”

I knew what he’d just done. Checked for the ring. It was back in the box after it came off in the shower. But that didn’t change or fix much now. “I was just wondering whether you had any time to think about last night. Our conversation. Because I have, and I’d like to pick up where we left it, if you don’t mind.”

A strange sigh left him as he rearranged his body, movingslightly forward and bracing his elbows on the blanket covering his knees. “Yes,” he admitted. “And I owe you an apology.” My whole body perked up. “I was a little harsh in my delivery. I was dead on my feet, and cranky, and I… wasn’t myself. So I’m sorry. You were right. If anyone would be jumping headfirst, no questions asked, into something like what happened back at the porch, it’d be me.”

My chest tightened with… relief? Hope? “Seriously?”

“Yeah,” he admitted with a nod. “That’s why I want to be there next time you talk to this Bobbi person. I involved myself in this when I went along with the lie anyway, so I’ll be there.” I felt the corners of my mouth twitch, climbing up my face with a smile. “We’ll tell her it was all a misunderstanding. Together.”

And down it came.

“Oh,” escaped me with a weak puff of air. “A misunderstanding. That’s what you meant.”

His chuckle was strained, as if he’d forced it out. “What else did you think I was going to say?”

Every new piece of information I’d learned last night, every single thing that had been said about me and Andrew, swirled in my head, making me feel a little dizzy.

It’s no wonder the girl is messed-up.

How could I even explain everything to this man? Should I just hit play on the podcast and make him listen? Watch his face fill up with… pity, in the best of cases? I’d always considered myself a strong, independent woman. But based on everything being said, I had never been. Not really. Not even remotely.

I shook off that thought and stood up. I’d really lost my nerve. And that was fine. I’d be fine. “Or you know what? I think I’ll just tell her myself. I’ll say it was all a mistake. It’ll be like ripping off a really feisty and uptight Band-Aid.”

“You sure?” Matthew hesitated. “I could—”

“Oh no,” I said, standing up from the armchair. “I should reallygo open Josie’s now. Grandpa Moe will drive you to Lazy Elk while we sort out your car situation.” Matthew’s lips thinned and I averted my gaze, already moving. “You’re right about everything, so I’ll fix the mess I started. Plus, it’s just Bobbi. It really isn’t like I have to make some public statement, or worse, tell the whole town we’re not… you know. A thing. It’s just a woman I barely even know.”

“So when’s the wedding?” I was asked for thefourthtime today.

I’d been counting. Together withfifth time’s the charm—delivered a total of three times—andwho’s the lucky man—a chilling total of eight. Eight.

Because as it turned out, it wasn’t just Bobbi who thought I was engaged again. It was all of Green Oak. Or at the very least, every customer who had strolled into Josie’s Joint buzzing with the news of a new engagement.

They always,alwaysbuzzed. With any news, but engagement news was the worst—or buzziest. And when you were allegedly engaged to a mystery man you’d kept a secret, the buzz escalated to an angry buzzing beehive.

All thanks to snoopy and meddlesome Otto Higgings.

News traveled fast in Green Oak, but this fast? Not even when one of the kids discovered the video of Adalyn ripping the head off the Miami Flames’ mascot with her bare hands did the news spread overnight. It took at least a day for everyone to start theorizing.

Not this time. It was barely lunchtime and I’d already heard that I was engaged to some guy named Marcus. Or Maddox. Or Maverick, a cowboy from Tennessee.No, a wanderer named Martin,someone claimed. They’d spotted him roaming around the edge of town with a duffel bag and a cloak.

A cloak.

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